


for the first time (i found you)

by castlestr33t



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Harry, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, M/M, Sugar Baby Harry, Sugar Daddy Louis, its all beautiful tbh, no offense but this is the BEST THING i have ever and will ever write thanks, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 19:39:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6127906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castlestr33t/pseuds/castlestr33t
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sugar baby harry and his sugar daddy louis yay</p>
            </blockquote>





	for the first time (i found you)

Harry Styles pouts at the reflection in the mirror and half turns to look over his shoulder at his older husband, and well established fashion designer, Louis Tomlinson. Louis is dressed in tight grey slacks with the bottoms rolled up to show his ankle tattoo (a small scribble of H that he’d gotten on their three year anniversary) and a white shirt is stretched across his chest, pulled off with a grey suit jacket, an expensive watch fitted snug around his delicate wrist. Harry envies him and his confidence with how he can easily pull the outfit off but he knows that Louis spent a lot of money on Harry’s outfit too (a purple shirt, - unbuttoned to show off his collarbones and most of his tanned chest - tight black jeans because he refused to go in slacks and the prettiest gold band wrapped around his wedding finger) so he keeps his pretty mouth shut.

Louis raises an eyebrow as he buttoned up his suit jacket and strolls purposefully over to Harry, tugging at his hand so that he turns fully to face the slightly smaller man. Louis smiles gently and rubs a thumb over the pillow of Harry’s plump bottom lip, leaving the younger boy breathless and pliant underneath the touch. 

When Louis touches him, he reverts back into that shy schoolboy with the biggest crush on his sister’s best friend and Harry loves it. 

“Do you think my jeans are tight enough?” Harry asks, breaking the silence.

Louis laughs.

“Yes, baby,” he murmurs and presses a chaste kiss to Harry’s lips. “they’re perfectly tight,” he teases and squeezes Harry’s right ass cheek in his hand. Harry squeaks softly. Glaring teasingly, Harry removes Louis’ hand from his ass and rolls his sea green eyes at the mischievous grin on his husband’s face. 

Harry slides his hands up the sides of Louis’ body until they’re resting on Louis’ chest and smiles sweetly. “Ask me.”

Louis blushes. “Ask you?” he whispers,

Harry nods and giggles gently, tilting his head as he looks at Louis with fondness settled deep in the light green irises of his eyes. “Mm-hm,” he murmurs. “you want to ask me something, baby, I can tell.”

Harry can read Louis like a well used book. 

Louis licks his lips. “You’re gonna behave tonight?”

Harry blinks up innocently at Louis and smiles sweetly. “Behave?”

Louis snorts softly and nods, grabbing Harry’s hands and bringing the knuckles up to his lips, pressing gentle kisses to the skin. Harry flushes delicately but remains his calm and collected self, long eyelashes fluttering gently across his cheekbones. “But I always behave, baby.”

“Last time you saw Eleanor you,” Louis broke away to bring up his fingers for air quotations, “‘accidentally’ spilt a tray of drinks on her Prada dress, Haz.”

“Accidents happen, daddy” Harry purrs and winks.

Louis growls softly under his breath and brings Harry in for a harsh kiss. “Say that again”

“D-daddy” Harry whimpers.

Smirking a dirty smirk that takes Harry back to the very first night they met, Louis tugs Harry close to align that bodies together, head to toe. Harry gulps softly and looks at his husband with wide eyes, hungry for whatever Louis is willing to give him - or make him take. Louis grabs Harry's left hand and applies it to his bulge in his slacks. Harry gasps, his lips parting. 

"How about you drop to your knees and suck daddy's cock, princess?" Louis purrs and Harry has to bite back a moan, doesn't want Louis to have full control just yet. There's time for that. 

A small grin curls up the younger boy's pink lips and he nods, breathing a dirty "yes, Sir" against Louis' lips before he sinks down gracefully to his knees, looking up at Louis from under his long, dark eyelashes. 

They're late to the party but Louis is loose limbed with his pretty boy on his arm so he really couldn't give a fuck, if he's honest.

-

"Lou," Harry whispers, his voice on the right side of whiney and sweetly desperate. 

Louis stirs in his sleep and groans softly. Harry thinks that he's never seen anyone so beautiful. Louis is vulnerable when he sleeps - all defenses dissipate and his lips are parted and his hands are usually cradled to his chest or his sides and his neck is always turned to the side to expose his neck. He doesn't speak in his sleep as Harry does but he's still so open and unlocked without much prompting. 

Harry loves him very very much. 

A frown crosses over Louis' forehead and he shakes his head, his feathery fringe falling over his forehead from the movement, the duvet slipping down his chest to expose his top half. Louis' "it is what it is" tattoo is on show and it's Harry's favourite so even though he doesn't want his husband to freeze in the early morning air, Harry doesn't really mind. 

Harry leans over from his side of the bed and braces himself up by his hands, then he presses a gentle kiss to the crease of his husband's eyebrows. Louis' features relax instantly and Harry feels breathless from how easily he can put Louis at ease even under the mask of sleep he is hidden beneath. 

Louis stirs again and snuggles slowly into the warm space next to him so he's really just leaning against Harry's left hand but it's comforting to know that Louis - Louis Tomlinson, the famous and extremely sexy fashion designer that works with so many amazing models every day - needs him and loves him. 

"Lou," he whispers again and he blushes from how fucking /fond/ his voice sounds to his own ears. "baby, you have an appearance to make, darling".

"What?" Louis rasps softly and tilts his head up but says nothing else. 

"Fashion week" Harry whispers and Louis groans. 

"Do I have to?" he murmurs. 

Louis still hasn't opened his eyes but he's rubbing his fingertips over the small lock tattoo on Harry's wrist. Louis knows Harry's body like his favourite book and it makes Harry's heart race even after seven years. 

Harry giggles. "half of the designs are yours baby, so yes, I think so" he noses at Louis' jaw. "you promised I could go and wear my pretty new jacket", Harry drops the last part in. 

Guilt is the way to get Louis out of bed. Or blowjobs, but this morning, that will only lead to Harry riding his husband and they don't have the time. 

Louis groans and Harry knows that he's won.   
"Okay, okay, okay," he grumbles and finally opens his eyes. Under the fresh light of the sun peering in through the blinds, Louis' eyes look new and clear and pretty. He's beautiful and it makes every cliche make sense to Harry. He grins. Louis licks his lips and wipes his face with the palm of his hand. "is the jacket black or white, love?"

"Purple".

Louis curses under his breath. "fuck, I'm getting so old I don't know /colours/ any more, jesus christ".

Harry giggles, covering his hand with the back of his mouth and he tries not to miss the way Louis' face transforms into a mask of fondness, his eyes crinkling by the corners and lips splitting out into a grin. Harry licks his red lips and moves to straddle Louis' hips - he really shouldn't but he can't help himself - and places his hands down on Louis' chest as he gazes down at him with love and amusement in his eyes. 

"You're not old".

Louis arches a beautifully sculpted eyebrow. "I'm not?" His tone is questioning and full of craving for further explanation. 

Harry shakes his head, his curls bouncing. "Nope," he says, popping the 'p' with his lips. "I mean, you can still get it up right?" he teases.

Louis' face turns into a mask of mock horror and amusement hidden in the deep irises that swim with cerulean waters. "Harry Tomlinson!" He gasps and grabs Harry by the shoulders, rolling him over and pressing him down on his back with a tight grip to his shoulders that leaves Harry positively breathless. This time, it's Louis that is on top of Harry and yet, he still has control over him. Of course he does, that's the dynamic of the relationship. Harry can manipulate and steer Louis in any direction that he wishes but at the end of the day, Louis is still the one in charge. Harry likes it; likes how powerful and successful his husband is and he definitely likes how Louis can easily manhandle him and bruise him just the way he needs. 

Harry grins up at Louis and arches an eyebrow innocently. "Whatever did I do, dear husband of mine?"

With a roll of his eyes, Louis brackets Harry's hips with his thighs and holds Harry down with a harsh grip to his broad shoulders. The older man passes his pink tongue over the swell of his bottom lip that is just that bit fuller when compared to his upper lip and Harry wants to die. He's so attractive. Slowly, with a lack of hesitance and a load of purpose, Louis slides his hands down to brush his thumbs over Harry's nipples before applying pressure down to the sensitive nubs. Harry gasps out loud, his lips parting gently. Louis /knows/ how sensitive his nipples are and he's definitely using this to his advantage. Harry sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to silence his whimper. 

Louis leans down to brush his lips against Harry's ear. "you like that, don't you?" he whispers, his voice sweet like honey. 

Harry nods, his stomach muscles flexing as he pushes his chest up in need of /more/. He thinks with victory as Louis smirks, /yes/, but then Louis grins and moves off Harry's body to jump onto the floor. And then his mind is screaming out /no/. The younger boy pouts at the tanned man and flops back onto the bed.

"You're /terrible/" he whines and Louis chuckles softly. Louis leans over and squeezes Harry's thigh in his hand, the pressure sending shivers throughout Harry's body. 

"Come on darling" he cooes. "You need to get dressed".

"I can't go naked?" Harry asks.

Louis snorts and scowls gently at his husband. "Oh love" he murmurs and kisses the side of Harry's jaw. "No one gets to see you like that but /me/" Louis accentuates his point with a harsh tug to Harry's curls that leaves the younger boy gasping. 

"Yes daddy" he murmurs, cheeks flushed. 

Louis' eyes rake over Harry's body and sinks his white teeth into his bottom lip. "Daddy needs you to calm down angel" he purrs and presses a soft kiss to Harry's lips. Harry hums gently and takes a deep breath to calm down and to cool down his heated skin. He needs to look perfect for the show, because he knows how much it means to Louis and he knows that what he looks like, it's a reflection on Louis. 

So Harry is a good boy and back to normal (as one can be normal in the presence of someone like Louis Tomlinson) in the matter of a few minutes. 

Louis smiles and tugs at Harry's hand until he's standing up, back in front of him again and it's breathtaking and amazing and weird and scary all at the same time. Because Harry is so /big/ now and it seems like only yesterday that Louis was taller than him and was crowding him up against the wall with a cheeky grin on his face. The thing is, little has changed - Louis is still in control, Harry is still a dork with huge curls and they're still in love but the only difference is that Harry could pick Louis up and grind up on him against the wall of their bedroom (or any room to be fair) with such ease. 

It takes Louis' breath away for seconds and much longer than that to wrap his head around it. 

Louis wraps his fingers around Harry's wrist, smoothing his thumb over the 'L' tattoo that Harry got on his 19th birthday. He smiles and puts pressure to the spot. "Best get you dressed, love" he says and Harry's face lights up.

"My new clothes?" 

"Your new clothes"

"Get in!"

"You're such a fucking /boy/" Louis laughs and Harry is in love with the way his eyes crinkle when he's genuinely amused like this. 

Harry grins and rubs his hands over Louis' bare chest, his fingers sliding over Louis' "It Is What It Is" tattoo that spreads just under his strong collarbones. Harry remembers the first time Louis came home with it and Harry remembers the first time Louis let him come over the tattoo and Harry remembers the first time Louis proudly showed it off for Instagram with a smirk on his face. Harry thinks he could remember everything about him and Louis if he tried hard enough. 

"That's why you're with me though, isn't it? Me, my boyish charm and my pretty mouth" Harry purrs.

Louis hums gently at the back of his throat and smirks softly at his husband, squeezing Harry's ass before stepping back and pushing Harry's new outfit into his hands. "Put some clothes on, sweetheart".

Harry pouts but does it anyway. Of course he does. 

Twenty minutes and several pinches to Harry's ass later, Harry has his new outfit on, Louis is presentable for the public eye and their hands are linked together as they leave the house. Louis has booked a driver for his car and as Harry climbs into Louis' lap, the fashion designer is incredibly grateful for the separating tinted window that cuts the driver off from seeing anything he really shouldn't. 

Louis' hands go to Harry's hips instantly, squeezing gently because he can never really get enough of him. 

"You like my lap baby?" he teases and brushes his lips against Harry's. The younger boy in his arms giggles gently and tilts his mouth to deepen the kiss and Louis loves him so fucking much.

"Rather be sitting on your cock" Harry breathes. 

Fighting back a moan, Louis' fingertips dig into Harry's hips and he can't miss the way that Harry shivers in his lap. Satisfaction rolls through Louis like tidal waves.

"Not sure that's possible right now baby" he murmurs and Louis is incredibly proud with how collected his voice sounds underneath how he's trying to stop himself from fucking Louis in the back seat on the inside. 

Harry sucks gently on Louis' parted lips and hums. "Can I get you off with my hand?"

"You'll make a mess on my shirt" Louis rasps as Harry's hand rubs over the bulge in his slacks. 

"I'll unbutton your shirt".

"I- yeah, yeah, Haz".

"Knew I was in debate team for a reason" Harry teases. 

Louis rolls his eyes and works on controlling his breathing as Harry slowly unbuttons Louis’ shirt, making sure that his long fingers linger on the exposed skin as he undresses his husband. Louis makes a frustrated sound at the back of his throat and digs his fingernails into Harry’s silk-covered hips, his silent way of telling Harry to hurry the fuck up. Louis doesn’t miss the huge grin on his husband’s face. 

Harry pops the button on Louis’ slacks and pushes the material out of the way so that he can slide Louis’ hard cock out of his Calvin Klein’s and yes, it’s definitely getting harder for Louis to breathe normally. 

Passing the tip of his pink tongue over the swell of his bottom lip, Harry smears the bubble of precum on the head of Louis’ cock with his thumb. Louis shivers and bites down on his bottom lip. Harry’s movements are slow, sure and Harry knows Louis’ body better than he knows it himself. Harry is the driving force that steers the exquisitely crafted machine that is Louis’ body. He likes it; likes how Harry can take care of him but be on his hands and knees the next second, prepared to be wrecked.

Harry’s lips brush against Louis’ pulse point as he slides his steady hand down over Louis’ cock and Louis moans softly but swallows it back a second later. He needs to keep quiet. 

“You’re so hot, Lou,” Harry murmurs as he squeezes Louis’ cock at the base. 

Harry’s hand tightens gently in the way that he knows Louis likes and fists Louis’ cock in his hand in a slow rhythm and he slides his fist up and down Louis’ cock. Louis is trembling, his thighs and stomach tensing and untensing as he feels his orgasm approach with each smooth tug to his cock. 

The car slides by the tall buildings and lit up bridges as they edge closer to where London Fashion Week is being held this year and just as they glide past Harry’s favourite bookstore, Louis comes with a muffled groan against his husband’s mouth. 

Harry is finishing buttoning up Louis’ shirt (with extra care) and brushing his lips over Louis’ when he whispers. “See? No mess.”

Louis laughs so hard he shakes. 

-  
Louis is stressed, stressed, stressed, stressed and all he think about is stress and all he can see is stress printed on the insides of his eyelids and all he can smell is the spice of stress and all he can taste is the indention of stress on his tongue. None of his models are feeling we'll except for one but Harriet is /useless/ for keeping a neutral expression on her face and he doesn’t have time to finish the hemming on Scarlett’s cocktail dress, he just doesn’t have the patience or the /time/. Fuck, /time/.

But Harry is here. He can tell Harry is here because even though the bottom half of his face is hidden in his hands and his eyes are focused down on the floor as he sits on the edge of the bed, fully clothed, (too buzzed to sleep and too tired to do anything) he can see the tips of Harry’s feet and he can smell his expensive cologne and he can hear his soft breathing and he can just /sense/ him.

Then Harry disappears from his sight and the bed dips as Harry climbs onto the bed, slipping his arms around his husband’s waist and resting his chin on Louis’ shoulder. The weight and warmth of Harry’ chest sticking to his back makes Louis exhale softly, the tension slowly easing out from his shoulders but it still resides there in his chest. 

“Louis,” Harry begins in a low whisper. Louis makes a soft hum at the back of his throat so he knows that he’s listening. “let me make you feel good?”

Louis frowns for a moment, his lips parting as he goes to ask a question but then Harry’s lips are moving up and down Louis’ neck as he slowly unbuttons Louis’ shirt with expert care, so for the time being, Louis is very frazzled and somewhat incapable of speech.

“Lou?” Harry says in a gentle whisper as he slides his hands down Louis’ now exposed skin and Louis realises that he hasn’t done anything or said anything except for arch up into Harry’s touch, his head coming up from its spot hanging in between his legs.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “yeah, Haz, please”.

He feels the grin against his neck and fondness blooms heavily in his chest, because Harry is so damn sure even as he rubs his palms down over Louis’ nipples until Louis is panting softly into the quiet air of their bedroom. 

“Can I ride you?” Harry asks and it’s so stupid, so silly that Harry even has to form his sentence as a fucking question. Because it’s a yes, in every language speakable. 

Louis nods and Harry grins again, that pure fucking grin that leaves Louis’ head spinning. Harry pulls back and tugs on Louis’ shoulders until he has Louis laid on his back in the middle of the bed. And fuck, the older man can only imagine what he looks like with dilated pupils, his shirt gaping wide open and his lips bitten red with his thighs instantly opening to accommodate his husband. 

But Harry still gets that look on his face that screams /I love you I love you I want you/ a million times over and it makes Louis’ stomach flip like a spinning acrobatic artist in a circus.   
Slowly kissing down Louis chest and stomach whilst rubbing the palm of his right hand over Louis’ crotch until he’s fully hard, Harry has a smile on his face and his movements are slow but full of purpose and Louis loves him very very much. Harry tugs Louis’ slacks down his thighs and throws them to the floor without a word and mouths at Louis’ cock with his expert, teasing mouth. Louis moans filthily and his hands go to Harry’s hair as his heart accelerates in his chest.

“Haz,” he chokes out and he isn’t sure whether he’s disappointed or relieved when Harry pays him mercy and pulls away, slowly stripping himself with his white teeth leaving marks in the flesh of his bottom lip. 

Harry is beautiful, all broad shoulders and milky white skin and narrow hips and pretty thighs and green eyes and beautiful hands and Louis is so very much in love with him, almost to the point where it is caving his chest in on itself. 

Harry smiles, and he’s so pure. 

Louis shivers, biting back a moan before he second thinks it and releases the soft sound, his hips bucking into the air as Harry moves the boxers off him and down his legs onto the floor where the rest of his clothes lay. Harry leans over Louis and fits their mouths together, grinding slowly down onto his husband’s lap with a smile.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “Let me take care of you, Lou. You take such good care of me, every single day.”

And yeah, Louis does. So he relaxes underneath Harry’s instruction and smiles fondly at his husband. “Let me loosen you up, yeah?” he says in a whisper and Harry blushes, darting his eyes away. Louis frowns and tugs on Harry’s wrist, curious.

Harry bites his lip. “I’ve already, kind of, um, maybe, fingered myself whilst you were out so... I’ll be good”

Louis’ eyes raise higher. “How long ago?”

“Half an hour”

“I got home fourty minutes ago, though,” he frowns.

Harry presses his lips together and smiles sheepishly. Louis’ breath catches in his throat and sighs out a gentle, “/oh/”. Harry giggles gently at Louis’ reaction and kisses him again because he knows that Louis isn’t mad, that secretly Louis loves it, loves how Harry just likes the feeling of being full (even if it isn’t full of Louis).

Louis pats Harry’s hip. “Get the lube, darling”  
Harry lights up like a sunflower under the heat and Louis can’t fight the smile that flitters across his features. Reaching over for the bottle of lube in the second drawer down to Harry’s side of the bed, Harry returns with a flushed grin on his face and /how/ does he still look so pure with a hard cock against his stomach and a bottle of lube in his hand? Louis feels dirty. 

Louis doesn’t have to say anything, he doesn’t have to prompt Harry into doing the right thing before the younger boy is slicking up Louis’ cock and spreading some on his fingers to rub gently on his rim. Louis watches with parted lips and wide eyes as Harry’s eyelashes flutter before he’s smiling and coming to fit their mouths together as he slides himself down onto Louis’ cock. Louis’ moan is lost in Harry’s mouth.

Harry doesn’t take much time before he’s moving on top of Louis’ cock, his breath coming out in short pants against Louis’ mouth. He moves in slow, calculated rotations of his hips that he knows will have Louis coming undone so, so quickly. But Louis doesn’t mind because he /needs/ it, /craves/ it. He wants to come inside of Harry so much it’s drowning him. 

Louis can feel how deep he’s going into Harry’s heat and it’s making his breath hitch in his throat and his hips buck up. The sudden movement makes Harry cry out softly so Louis does it again; and again, and again until Harry is positively shaking in his husband’s lap. His blunt nails have left red, harsh marks upon Louis’ chest and he wants it. He needs it like he needs air to breathe. 

Then Louis thrusts quickly and hits Harry’s prostate which makes the boy turn into a whining mess on top of him and maybe it’s the sounds that fall from Harry’s mouth or maybe it’s the way Harry clenches hard around his cock or maybe it’s the way Harry’s delicious thighs are framing Louis’ hips but then he comes with a shuddering moan, his back arching and hands tightening roughly on his husband’s beautiful hips as he fills Harry up. 

Harry mewls softly and rolls his hips so that Louis’ cock shifts inside of him, then with two tight tugs on his cock, Harry comes all over Louis’ “It What It Is” tattoo with flushed cheeks and parted lips.

Harry is beautiful and full and all his and Louis loves him very very much.   
-

Harry asks if his mother can stay for a week whilst she visits the theatres in London and Louis wants to say no. Because when Anne is there (bless her heart) Harry won't let Louis fuck him - and Louis respects that, he does! However, a week is. Huge, for Louis' cock, at least. 

Maybe if Harry had asked him when he wasn't bouncing on Louis' cock and making him lose his mind, Louis might have found the power to say no and offer to pay for her hotel instead but, alas.

Harry is persuasive with a cock up his ass, Louis has found. Which explains the expensive coffee machine, total of three iPhones and his pair of studded Converses, amongst other things. 

So, Anne stays and Harry is delighted and Louis is glad to see his husband happy and he's polite and as soon as Anne leaves with a kiss to each of their cheeks, Louis has Harry down on his knees with his hands buried in Harry's curls with a command of "suck my cock before you invite any more of your family over".

Neither of them leave the flat for the next two days. 

-

Louis is lucky, he realises that. He realises that he’s so unbelievably lucky to have found his soul mate to share his life with at the raw age of 21; that to be able to have someone like Harry in his life was extraordinary never to mind the fact that he was able to have someone like Harry /love/ him in the degree that he does; that to have his husband accept him fully for who is he is a honest novelty. 

As Louis stares down at his wedding band with a smooth smile playing at his pink lips, the sunshine filtering through the blinds bouncing off the metal and creating patterns on Harry’s naked back who is cuddled up into his side, one lanky arm thrown across Louis’ waist as he sleeps soundly. 

Louis remembers proposing to Harry.

//  
“Lou, where the hell are you taking me?” Harry giggles and it’s Louis’ favourite sound in the world. Louis had requested that Harry wear something nice (Harry decided on his Ramones tee shirt and black skinny jeans and it’s not what he expected but it’s still nice) and that he would trust him, even with a blindfold around his head. Harry does as he’s told. 

Louis’ lips press into the side of Harry’s neck and he smiles at Ryan who opens the door to the arena for him. Ryan is a fucking star and Louis is confident that without Ryan pulling a few favours, that this occasion really wouldn’t be anything like he hopes it will be.

They walk unsteadily, Harry with long limbs trying to walk in a straight line (which is a task in itself with the aid of his vision, never mind without) and Louis is trying to support Harry as he subconsciously leans into his side, their hips bumping as they walk.  
“We’re just gonna go up some steps now, love,” Louis says in a gentle whisper and Harry nods, fighting back a grin as he finds his footing up the steps. As Louis leads them to the centre of the stage, he can feel his breath pick up as nerves frazzle his bones. He’s scared - fucking terrified - but he knows that it’s only because this matters and only because Harry matters so slowly, but surely, he calms himself down.

“Louis,” Harry whines and Louis snaps back to reality, his hand clammy. “Can I take this off now?” 

Nervously licking the swell of his bottom lip, Louis presses down on Harry’s shoulders with the palms of both of his hands so that Harry knows to stay in his spot. He does. Harry is such a good boy. Louis steps in front of Harry and removes the bandana from Harry’s eyes and setting it down on the ground with a gentle, understated flourish.

He watches the breath catch in Harry’s throat; as his green eyes widen; as his lips part; and as his gaze flickers around the huge arena before settling back on Louis’ face. Louis wonders if he knows where they are because sometimes Harry can be so clueless that if he didn’t have geography classes as a child then he would probably have no idea where the fuck London even is on a huge map of the United Kingdom.

Harry finally speaks. “Why are we in the arena where we both saw The Script play?”

Louis can’t help but laugh (and feel guilty at the same time). His boy really isn’t that clueless is he. 

His lips curling up gently at the corners of his mouth, Louis brings his hands to clasp Harry’s own hands in his and he squeezes with reassurance fizzing in the action. “You remember the arena then?”

Harry snorts and his cheeks are colouring slightly underneath Louis’ warm gaze and Louis loves him very, very much. 

“Of course I know the fucking arena, you pri-”

Harry’s retort dies on his tongue and his breath catches in his throat again as Louis sinks to his knee with a gentle smile and a squeeze of Harry’s hands.

“Harry Edward Styles.” he begins and Harry is shaking his head as if he can’t believe that Louis is actually doing this, his eyes going glassy as he stares down at Louis, unable to move. “I love you. Fucking hell, I love you so fucking much that it drives me mad. I love your hair, your eyes, your legs, your hands, your heart, your smile, your laugh, your wit, your voice, your sexy glint that you get in your eye when you can tell I’m half hard in my trousers, your sarcasm, your music taste, your stomach, your tattoos, your eyelashes, just... everything.” Louis feels like he’s rushing, speaking a million miles an hour but he just can’t get enough words out that will even begin to convey how in love he is with the beautiful boy in front of him. Harry isn’t crying (yet) and honestly, Louis counts that as a win. “I’ve wanted you,” he carries on. “since the first time I saw you in this bloody arena when you wore your stupid Doc Martins with eyeliner smudged on your eyelids,” he pauses to drop his voice low. “which was totally hot by the way,” Harry giggles wetly, swallowing back a deep breath as he watches Louis in front of him. “I’ve wanted you since then and I still want you now and I want you for the rest of my life and I don’t see why I can’t have that. Not because I have more money than sense but because I’m pretty sure you love me too so I don’t see why you and me can’t just have our happy ever after? So, I don’t know Haz, maybe I’m crazy, maybe I’m just a pathetic sod in love but...” he trails off with a wide grin on his face and reluctantly drops Harry’s hands from his in order to pull the red velvet box from his pocket. He pops the box open and chuckles softly when he hears Harry’s whimper, looking up at Harry with the engagement band in his palm and the box to the side. “So, Haz, what’s it gonna be? You gonna make me the happiest man alive or what?”

Harry sobs out a “yes, you fucking prick!” and Louis’ eyes widen, his grin taking over his face and his eyes crinkling by the corners. With a shaky hand, Louis slides the band onto Harry’s ring finger and stands up, grabbing Harry by the back of his neck and pulling him into a hard kiss, a low mumble of “I love you I love you I love you” rumbling against the delicate skin. 

Harry laughs breathlessly and holds onto Louis tightly as he responds to the kiss with heated enthusiasm, his hands needy and clutching the back of Louis’ shirt. 

“Lou?” he says and pulls back. Louis looks down to the state of Harry’s swollen lips with a smirk and he nods, flicking his gaze up to Harry’s eyes again. 

“Yes, love?”

“Is it bad etiquette if we fuck on the stage or should we wait until we’re home?”

Louis laughs. “Haz,” he murmurs and grazes his teeth over Harry’s pulse point, making him shiver. “when have we ever given a fuck about etiquette?”

Harry grins and pushes Louis to the ground with a laugh, grinding down with purpose. “Perfect” he breathes and Louis fucks his fiance for the first time.   
//

Back in the present day, Harry is beginning to stir and it’s only then that Louis realises that his hand had come up to caress his husband’s ring finger where his wedding band is. The older man blushes and smiles lovingly at his husband as Harry looks at him with bleary eyes as he stretches with a soft whine. 

Louis loves everything about him.   
“Mm...” Harry mumbles, his voice slow and heavy with sleep. “morning, Lou”,

Louis rubs a thumb over the corner of Harry’s jaw and leans down to fit their mouths together with little prompting or protest. Harry used to hate being kissed first time in the morning due to the lack of hygiene but Louis has trained him to not care anymore. They’ve had more morning blowjobs since then too, so they both win. 

Pulling back with a lazy smile, Louis licks his lips. “Hi, baby”.

Harry rubs a hand over his face and settles his cheek on the heat of Louis’ chest, peering up at his husband from beneath his long eyelashes. “What were you thinking about before I woke up?” And of course. Of course Harry knows what Louis was doing before he was even conscious. 

“Thinking,” Louis says, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Harry giggles and prods his chest, rolling his eyes fondly when Louis squeaks in mock hurt. Grabbing Harry’s hand and brushing his lips over Harry’s knuckles, he smiles. “Thinking about when I proposed to you,” he elaborates. 

Harry visibly blushes at the memory and hums gently as he closes his eyes, fatigue and nostalgia swishing through his veins. A minute later, he opens his eyes again and passes his pink tongue over his bottom lip. (Louis’ eyes follow the movement, unashamedly). “You fucked me good, on that stage” he says.

Louis raises an eyebrow, and pinches Harry’s hip that is getting pudgier, much to Louis’ delight. He loves how round Harry’s hips are, and how much rounder they’re becoming. It takes him back to when they first met when Harry was all huge grins and charm and pudgy hips and thighs. (Nothing much has changed, in hindsight.) Harry whines. 

“I thought I fucked you good /every/ time” he says pointedly.

“Not on a stage, though” Harry points out.

“The world is a stage, Haz,” Louis retorts and chuckles when Harry rolls his eyes at him and he ignores the soft mutter of “dickhead” that falls from Harry’s beautiful mouth. 

Before Louis can say or do anything else to tease Harry any further, Harry is sliding into Louis’ lap and sliding his hands up and down Louis’ chest with a smirk playing on his pretty lips. Louis really, really likes how eager Harry is. “Think our bed could be a stage right now?” he says in a dirty whisper against the shell of Louis’ ear and Louis nods, his eyes flicking to Harry’s half hard cock which is curving up against his stomach. 

“Yeah, Haz, yeah, I can do that, baby,” he says slowly and fits their mouths together before squeezing Harry’s hips in a possessive move. Then they fall together as they do everytime they touch each other and falling has never felt this good, Louis thinks to himself as Harry comes with a high pitched, “Lou”.


End file.
